Title: Who You Are Part: 1 Author: FehrKitten Email: [email protected] Disclaimer: I own a black cat and a dirty Toyota.
That's all. The lyrics are courtesy of Dada--
http://www.dadaland.com/discog.html Summary: Michael finds himself drawn yet again to
Maria in spite of how he thinks he should, or should
not, feel. Category: Michael/Maria Rating: PG
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I could fall in love
I could pick a flower
I'd give it a face
But it would never replace
Who you are
Responding to an insistent knock, Maria opened the
kitchen door to the last person she ever would have
expected to see at her house, let alone using the door
like a...well, like a human! Which he isn't, she
reminded herself firmly, determined to ignore the way
he made her breathe all funny just by looking at her.
"Well?" she demanded, and he quirked a brow at her in
that infuriating way he had, surveying her from her
tousled hair to her small bare feet with colorfully
painted toenails.
"Well what?" he tossed back at her, smirking at her
discomfort, although he was squelching plenty of his
own. Neither was exactly meeting the other's eyes.
"Well, what are you doing here, Michael?" her voice
made his name sound heavenly. She'd meant to sound as
snippity as possible but he'd caught her off guard
showing up like this, and she wasn't really prepared.
He looked...well, he looked like a hot fudge sundae
would to a dieter...sinfully delicious. Teflon, she
reminded herself. I am Teflon.
"I...well..." Their eyes finally met, hers the tawny
golden-green of a cat's and his the smooth honey-brown
of a southern bayou, and his carefully prepared
noncommittal excuses melted away. "I wanted to see
you." His fumbling brain finally came up with
something to cover his ass and he hastily added, "I
mean, I saw you in the kitchen and wanted to make sure
you didn't blow yourself up or something," he averted
his gaze slightly to avoid hers. He fixated on the
breakfast table beyond her, repeating to himself
mentally, "mud...mud..." and caught site of the napkin
holder he'd made for her on the table next to a
centerpiece of flowers. Where Maria's mom had found
napkins printed with little green aliens, he was not
even going to ask. The corner of his mouth turned up
in a small smile that made her want to kiss him right
there.
"Well, here I am, you've seen me, I'm in one piece,
now you can go," she returned, trying to muster her
best Michael glare to dismiss him. "What are you
smiling at?"
"That's a hell of a napkin holder you've got there,
must have been pricey," he teased her, and she
couldn't help giggling.
"You don't know the half of it," she bantered, and
then both sobered as their eyes met again.
"Can I come in?" he asked, and she shrugged.
"Sure, c'mon, ruin my day, why don't you," she
muttered under her breath as she moved away from the
door. He heard her, even though she only half-hoped
he would, and he eyed the smooth ivory column of her
neck as she turned back into the kitchen.
He said "That's what I live for," and stopped short as she whirled to face him.
"YOU," she said, poking a finger none too gently into his chest, "will NOT screw with my head today. Understood?"
"Yes ma'am," he returned, trying not to burst into laughter at the expression on her face. Apparently she had been housecleaning to a small degree--the
dishwasher was half unloaded and there was a kitchen towel lying on the edge of the sink. She made a beeline back to that side of the kitchen.
I could sing forever
Get drunk on guitar
Feel the drum and bass
But it would never replace
Who you are
"Is told me about the show, I never knew you could sing," he said suddenly, and she tossed a glance back at him.
"You were not there, you still don't know," she said
pointedly.
"Word gets around in...in our group," he hesitated,
unfamiliar with inclusive terms that included him, but
pleased with the rightness he felt in saying "our."
"I'd like to hear you sometime," he offered, and she
chuckled.
"No smart-alecky remarks? No 'I'd like to hear you so
mating cats and howling dogs sound good in
comparison?' No 'I'd like to hear you so I can peel
the paint off this canvas I messed up on?' Just 'I'd
like to hear you'?"
"Just that," he answered, "but don't get used to it."
She chuckled again and a smile touched his mouth at
the sound. He loved to aggravate her but also found
pleasing her rather intriguing. She continued to dry
and put away dishes and a surprisingly comfortable
silence descended between them. In spite of the way
they bickered like preschoolers, they understood each
other too well after their road trip to really be
strangers to each other.
Michael hung back by the breakfast area and appeared
to study the flowers while he covertly admired the way
she looked in cotton shorts and tank...her small waist
and the gentle swell of her hips called to him because
he remembered all too well how perfectly she fit into
his arms. "Michael's got feelings after all!" Isabel
would have crowed victoriously if she knew what he was
thinking. Maria would have broken a plate over his
head, he was sure. Maybe some Corningware, since it
was heavier and much more suited to his hard head, he
could almost hear her correcting him mentally.
"Why are you drying dishes by hand if you're gonna use
the washer to wash 'em?" his tone of voice indicated
that this was more of Maria being silly.
"Because the washer is a piece of crap?" she returned
haughtily, not looking at him. She reached in for a
bowl and as she brought it out a warm hand covered
hers briefly as he lifted it out of her grasp. "You
startled me," she said, proud of herself for not
jumping. She had not even heard him move, damn his
cat-like grace anyway, and now he was standing close
enough to her that she could feel the heat of his
skin...his silky, golden skin...stop it, she told
herself, stop it RIGHT NOW Maria!
I could set this cold blue world ablaze
But the sun would still rise
And I would never replace
Who you are
"Sorry," he offered, trying to concentrate on drying
the bowl instead of on the blond pixie so close beside
him, and he was rewarded by a peal of bell-like
laughter.
"YOU, wait, I need a tape recorder...say that word
again!" Maria could not stop laughing.
"Shut up," he rolled the dish towel and snapped at her
with it.
"You missed, space-brain!" she shouted, and squealed
as he rolled it again and advanced on her with a
determined look on his face.
"Take that!" he teased, popping her a few times in
succession.
"Michael, quit it! OW!!" He scored a couple of hits
on her but stopped when one raised a red mark on her
forearm. "Alien creep," she glared at him.
Glaring right back at her, he muttered, "Bubble head,"
as he laced his fingers through hers and lifted her
arm.
"Michael, what are you--ohh..." she trailed off as he
softly touched his mouth to her arm. She felt the
warmth of his breath as he hovered briefly over the
spot he'd made, and then brushed a delicate butterfly
kiss onto her skin. Her eyes were wide as she watched
him and saw the flicker of his tongue as he tasted
her. He released her hand and closed his arms around
her shoulders, drawing her to him and holding her
tightly. She circled his waist with her arms and felt
his ragged breathing stirring the hair on top of her
head as he tried to get himself under control.
"I should go," he spoke softly after a moment, and for
once she didn't yell at him or argue with him.
"If you need to," she responded, her fingers tracing
the shape of his spine through his thin cotton shirt.
"In a minute," he decided, dropping a kiss on the
blond crown of her head, which he found did not help
his equilibrium any, for she smelled deliciously of
raspberries. "Where's your mom?" he asked, trying to
recover some semblance of normality.
"She'll be home late Sunday night, she's at one of her
weird convention things again," Maria replied.
"Oh." Brilliant, Guerin, he thought to himself, you're
alone with her and you know you can't keep away from
her. Run, you moron, before you do something stupid.
Or don't do it...
I'd take a train to nowhere
A rocket to mars
Get lost in space
But I could never replace
Who you are
"OK, I'm going," he said, not relaxing his embrace
even a fraction of an inch. He felt the vibrations of
her giggle muffled in his chest and he couldn't mask
an answering smile. "C'mon, get off of me, you weigh
a ton," he teased her, and she snatched her arms from
around his waist and tickled him mercilessly, a stern
look on her face barely staying there as she fought
not to laugh.
"Pig. Male pig," she said, struggling to escape his
grasp as he caught her wrists and held them loosely in
between their bodies.
"Oink," he replied with a wicked sparkle in his eyes,
and she had to laugh. "I really am going this time,"
he said, and he slipped his hands into her smaller
ones and held them for a moment. Crossing his
fingers, he said, "This doesn't change anything I
said," and at her puzzled look he leaned forward and
brushed her lips delicately with his. "I still don't
like you," he murmured softly against her mouth, and
he felt her fingers cross as she joined his childhood
game.
"I don't like you either.." she fibbed right along
with him, and kept her eyes closed for a moment after
she felt him withdraw. When she opened them he was in
the doorway looking back at her, and then he was gone.
Feeling strangely contented, she returned to her
dishes with a dreamy smile that didn't leave her face
for quite a while.
I could set this cold blue world ablaze
But the sun would still rise
And I would never replace
Who you are
